Escape to the Thrills
by 2DaughtersOfAthena
Summary: When Hermione is stressed at work, Draco provides a somewhat unexpected, and unique, solution. A theme park. Magical, AU. Oneshot, complete.


**Another small-but-not-small piece for y'all. Muggledom should be up next Sunday - sorry for the wait! (Also, this fic describes a 100% real place!)**

 **House: Ravenclaw**

 **Category: Themed, escape**

 **Prompt: Theme park**

 **W/C: 2630**

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The work is piling on top of me, a bumf of paper surrounding me from every suffocating part of the room. I churn over the next set of files, placing them in a pile on the overcrowded floor. Every part of this is making me feel as though I cannot breathe. Lungs closed off, throat tightening, breath short – oh wow, I'm having a panic attack.

I lean back from the desk; the whole world having turned fuzzy around me. My eyes begin to sting and my fingers tingle from where they rest against the wooden desk. A rainbow of colours swirl before my eyes. It's dizzying.

"Everything alright, Granger?"

Of course, of course Draco Malfoy is knocking on my door. Cynical, banter-fuelled Draco Malfoy, who I absolutely have a crush on. Draco Malfoy, who has been making dark jokes at every turn since we started working together. He provides me with that comfort in comedy that I have apparently been missing from my life. Today is an entirely different situation when he bursts into my office. Hair gelled into a mess, and tie looser than it should be.

Since we started working together, it has been a hellish ride up until this point. A ride of bad jokes and annoying sanctimonious looks. However, somehow - don't ask me how - we've grown into this habit. Checking in on each other, being nicer in memos, and having several inside jokes. Horrendous to consider, I know. Yet, somehow it happened.

"What – are you okay?" His voice is different. Lower. Somehow more grown up. Face in semi-frown. As if he is actually taking something into consideration - other than our pessimistic and strangely amusing conversations. Today will apparently not be a day when we talk about anything and everything other than real life.

I nod, unable to breathe just yet. I want him to get out. Or for me to stop having a panic attack. Either of those.

"What's going on?" he presses.

"Nothing, Draco. I'm fine," I bite back, reaching for the edge of the table for _something_ to hold onto. Something that's more real. Something that doesn't make me want to vomit, pass out, and scream all at once.

"You look terrible," he notes, not even slightly amused.

"Gee, thanks," I breathe, almost gagging on my words. Betraying, traitorous tears leak and gush over my face. "I'm just tired."

At this, he pauses.

Quickly, he moves fully into the room, closing the door - otherwise known as my barrier from him - to the outside world. He strides three steps towards me, watching my twitching hands, my streaming face, and the way I just can't let go of the table. My breathing grows rapidly shallower as he approaches, ashamed and horrified. Yet, now that the door is closed, and that he's the only one let in, it feels as though my chest cavity is filling just a little bit more. I'm definitely tense, but not such a mess.

"Hermione," he murmurs. "You need to go home."

"I'm not going anywhere." The words are even easier this time.

"Please, listen to me." Malfoy speaks carefully, as if measuring his words. "You can't continue like this. It's going to drive you mad." He picks up a file from the desk and tidies the papers inside, so that each page is straight along every edge.

"What the heck else am I supposed to do?"

Malfoy glances quickly around. Then he pulls his wand from an inside pocket and magically straightens every file in the room into neat piles. Strangely, this helps me to breathe even easier, now that the room is no longer a visual representation of my thought processes. I can tell he's thinking.

"Let me help you unwind for a day; you'll feel loads better. I can talk to John about it, get you some extra days. Today, why don't we just get out of here?" He pauses. "I know this has a deadline, but it's not worth your sanity."

"Me and you?"

The idea of that is halfway between extremely and not-at-all appealing. It might be appealing because of my infuriating crush on him. Not appealing because there is too much to do, and I can't stop working just because I'm worried about it. I mean, it would be great to spend the day out of the office, but I can't fathom what level of mayhem I might return to.

Then again, it _is_ only one day.

"Fine."

"Good," Malfoy says smiling, clapping his hands. "Change into something comfortable. Meet me here in an hour."

I apparate home, definitely regretting the decision I may have just made. But as soon as my jeans are on, I feel instantly more relaxed. It's like settling into comfy pyjama bottoms after a long day that has lasted more than three years. The rest of my slightly frivolous hour is spent watching TV, and packing small muggle items into a handbag - tissues, a couple of random pens, and my keys.

"Take my arm," Draco instructs, holding it out for me once we are back at the office. I take a moment by myself to ask if I'm certain – I mean, who knows what I'm getting myself into. Draco Malfoy and me in casual, muggle dress. What could really go wrong?

As I grab hold, two things happen at once. A spark of nerves and electricity shoot through me, as well as the usual sharp tug in my navel. The world swims and spins around us, in a blur of vivid, stretching colours. Before I can begin to count the seconds passing, the ground has slammed into our feet, and Draco has let go of me. I stumble away from him for a second, taking in our surroundings.

"Pleasurewood Hills?" I ask, completely flummoxed. Why would he have brought me here?

"Have you been before?"

"Only once, when I was younger," I muse, still getting a handle on where we are. "How do you know about it?"

"Had to come here once when a small child as accidentally using far too much magic in muggle place," he explains. "Practically Obscurial."

"Oh Merlin."

"Anyway, I thought you might like to be surrounded by muggle things. We're have to have fun... What's your poison?"

"What do you mean?"

"Obviously, Almighty Granger, we're going to spend our day on rollercoasters, drinking foul muggle alcohol, and dancing away from our responsibilities."

"That actually sounds perfect."

"I know. I'm a genius."

The park itself is a kaleidoscope of colour; of jumpers, and bold hat choices, as well as the usual anoraks in spite of the warm Spring sunshine. Draco and I look pretty much like everyone else, just without the plastic outer layer to fight the non-existent rain. He glances sideways at me for a moment, as if asking where I want to go first. I run through the wooden sign of the park and head straight for the pirate ship on the right-hand side. The queue isn't so bad. We wait only five minutes before being let on the boat with a bunch of strangers.

"This is so childish," Draco mutters savagely, looking around at the ship and the uncomfortable plastic seats. He shuffles into place as the boat pulls backwards, and swings forwards very slightly. Of course, I know that it's going to be underwhelming to start with, but I am also betting that Draco does not know that these things build in momentum. I pat him kindly on the knee, excited already.

"This is amazing," I grin.

My stomach churns in joy, and my mind is flipping. Draco grabs hold of my wrist as we swing higher and higher, the pull of momentum dragging us through the air like apparition. Except, this yank in my navel is sustained, and therefore much more enjoyable. Obviously, he hasn't done any thrill seeking like this before.

After the pirate ship, we venture to the Captain's Cove, which honestly scared Draco as much as it amused me. He practically wet himself after the lights went out, though given our experience, I didn't judge too harshly. Following that, Snake in the Grass - a moderately small, but extremely fast rollercoaster around a forest of trees. I take Malfoy to get cotton candy and lemonade. He cringes at the taste of the lemonade, but enjoys the "weird, fluffy pink stuff" as much as I can tell. I smile at him almost continuously, both loving the day, and a little more attracted to him now that I'm having fun. I'm stuffing my face with a great hotdog, when Draco suggests the much talked-about Jolly Roger.

Directly beside the pirate ship, the irony of the name is never lost on customers at the theme park of Pleasurewood Hills – or as many like to call it, Pleasurewood Thrills. However, these rides are altogether completely different. While the pirate ship builds in momentum, the Jolly Roger is over in one fell swoop. Sixty feet high, a long pole for which a row of seats crawls up, to hold in place, and fall to the ground in a matter of seconds.

"No way," I protest.

"Yes, way," he grins. Then he reaches for my hand and pulls me into the line.

"If we're doing this, then I want to try all of the big ones. Not just the pirate ship, and snake in the grass, and the small one that you almost wet yourself on," I say nastily.

"It jumped out of the damn shadows!" he argues. "But fine. Come on."

Twelve long seconds it takes for the braces to lock all of us into place. I don't look at Draco, too afraid that my own fear will show dramatically all over my features. He is grinning at me, and I can feel it. Fifteen seconds is the time is takes for the ride to pull us the horrendous sixty feet into the air. From up here, we can see over everything. The children's part of the park, the cars, the road about six miles away, and the looming adventure of the looped rollercoaster, Wipe-Out.

Seven seconds.

The longest seven seconds of my life, and I am halfway to distracting myself from the dismal and tense fear of falling to my death. At the end, we drop.

Falling sixty feet through the air must feel like nothing to a champion of Quidditch. Having never enjoyed the game myself, I scream and swear the whole way down, with Draco next to me looking like he is back on a broomstick after a week. It's the most wonderful, and the most terrible, feeling in all the world. Like flying, and falling, and everything you could possibly imagine all at once. It gives you a totally different kind of rush.

"Can we do that again?" he asks, stumbling from between the strangers.

"Absolutely."

We do that maybe six more times before I am dragging Draco through to the food stands, my stomach rumbling and appetite better than it has been for week. Instead of opting for something healthy, we get hotdogs and Fanta, alongside a bag of sugar-coated donuts. Malfoy wolfs his down, while I relish in the taste of something that isn't magical – that's coated in grease, and sugar, and fat, and all things that good, theme park food should be. The donuts are still hot by the time we get to them, choosing to take them to our next destination of the kids' area. Much to Draco's chagrin, we board the tiny wooden train to take us around the park, eating our donuts as we go.

"Are you having a good time?" I ask, squished up against him in the seats built for large toddlers. He glances sideways at me, sniffing the donut-scented air, and nods. I laugh.

"You know, I really fancy going back to that cave place. The one those kids were talking about," Malfoy muses.

"Hawthorn's Cave?"

The park's latest addition, and therefore its most revered thrill-seek. A bunch of connected darkened rooms, where you have no idea what happens unless you venture inside. As veterans of a brutal wizarding war, I am kind of completely against the idea. However, Malfoy very much wants to know the secrets of the screams and howls of fear. And so, here we go, him practically dragging my donut-filled body into the black room, where only a trimming of red light guides our way further into the least-haunted of haunted houses I have been in. Why it's called a cave, I have no idea. There's no such cave in –

"Bloody _HELL_!" I shriek, leaping backwards as something hauls itself towards me, bound to the wall by chains. Cloaked all in black, it's arms curl towards me. I know it's a person, I know it is, it's just another person. Yet, I can't escape that feeling of the drawing chill creeping over me. Draco tugs at my arm, bringing my attention back to him. His face glows unbecomingly in the light, but his eyes are concerned. He checks me over, squeezing my hand lightly.

"Okay, maybe this was a bad idea," he mutters.

"Maybe," I laugh, feeling horrendous.

After that debacle, we stick to the more natural thrills. Ones where we are thrown in circles, upside down, and all over the place. In between the sticky heat is the blissful shade, where we take time in drinking cold cups of lemonade. Before long, the rides are lit up in bright blues, yellows, and reds, humming tunes more vibrantly than earlier in the day. The punters are friendlier, and the customers are fewer. It's almost time to go back.

Draco and I board the carousel as the lights burst into colour.

"How come you brought me here?" I ask him, shuffling into the uncomfortable seat. He clasps the chain shut across us and swings his legs just shy of the ground. The ride begins to whir, and we are slowly lifted from the ground, swirling at a relaxing pace through the air. It's even more wonderful than the thrill rides we sought earlier in the day.

"I told you," he mutters. "Muggle things make muggles happy."

"But why? We've never done anything together before."

"Yet, we have been working together for some time," he notes.

"True," I agree. "But today. When I'm stressed and fed up, you come in and… What? Take pity on me?"

"Merlin's Beard, Granger!" Malfoy exclaims. "I just wanted to make you feel better."

"Sorry," I murmur, embarrassed. I glance, instead, at the lights in the distance. Of cities, and towns, and houses far away – far enough away that the brightness of them blur into one stream of yellow and white.

"I figured you wanted an escape. It doesn't matter if it had been anyone else, you just… It's not important that it was me, but it's important that you got what you needed," Malfoy interrupts my thoughts, if a little stoically.

I nod, too tired argue.

Too tired to really walk, or apparate, or stand for too long, Malfoy apparates the both of us back to the office, where I get the floo back to my apartment. I can't help but wonder whether the day would have been different if Ron had taken me, or Ginny, or Harry, or Luna. If any of them had found me this morning, would they have thought about it the same way? Would they have done the same thing? Would they have just known what was needed?

I fall asleep thinking that it did matter that Draco Malfoy came with me today. It does matter. At least, it matters to me. Whether the day mattered to him is another problem entirely, and yet certainly one for Future Hermione to deal with.

 **0-0-0-0**

 **Thank you all for reading!**


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